tered the room; "Do you know that I quite anticipated this visit. I felt sure that you would resent as deeply as I do the unworthy conduct of that hypocritical Miss Lyle, whom I suspected of some plot of this kind the day that we dined in Hertford-street."

"Yes; is it not abominable?" asked Mrs. Percival with an expression of the most virtuous indignation; "Pretty taste the old nabob has shewn, upon my word, to throw away his money upon that frightful scarecrow of a woman, when he might have benefited our dear children, and secured their position in society; but, as you justly remark, there can be no doubt that the train was laid beforehand; and I am greatly deceived if that disagreeable Mr. Brunton was not at the bottom of it. I always detested that man, with his quiet sneers, and his plausible speeches. I am obliged to tolerate him, because he is the old nabob's man of business, and possesses great influence over him; otherwise I can assure you that he should never set his foot in my house; and Mr. Percival likes him as little as I do. I am quite sure that he might have prevented this nonsensical business if he had thought proper to do so; but I can easily believe that he took a malicious pleasure in encouraging the old simpleton in his folly. And now, what is to be done? You can never suffer two fine young men like Ernest and Frederic-mind, I speak sincerely, and without the slightest intention to flatter you-who require only a tolerable fortune to make a figure in the world, to be robbed in this shameful manner, without expostulating with the old tyrant. I am quite sure that I would

not."

And you are right, Mrs. Percival. It is not to be thought of. We are both extremely illtreated, and we have every reason to feel aggrieved. Look at your dear girls; I confess to you that I was perfectly astonished at the refinement and elegance of their manners; is it not cruel that they should be defrauded in this way? It is very easy to say that Mr. Lyle is in his dotage, but he must have had very dangerous advisers."

"I should not care for myself," said the visitor, tossing back her redundant curls; "nor for Mr. Percival, who is, as everybody knows, making a great deal of money. But of course I am anxious about my daughters; for, were they to marry early, my husband would be compelled to withdraw a portion of his capital from the house, in order to pay their dowry; and I confess that after having brought so fine a fortune myself, I should not like to see the girls less amply provided for."

Fortunately they are still very young;" observed Mrs. Stainton, consolingly; " and in all probability you will not be deprived of their society for a year or two yet."

"As regards Anastasia you are in error;" said Mrs. Percival, with a pretty affectation of confidence; "and I really do not see, considering our near relationship, why I should hesitate to tell you that there is an immediate prospect of the dear girl making a most desirable marriage.

The young man who is now paying his addresses to her has lately come into possession of a splendid property; and had Mr. Lyle done his duty by his nephew and namesake, as he had every right to expect that he would do, there could not have been the slightest difficulty in the way. As it is, however, poor Mr. Percival will of course be compelled to make a great sacrifice."

"Thoroughly can I sympathise with you, my dear Madam;" sighed Mrs. Stainton, who at once detected the feeling of triumph with which her voluble guest had communicated this interesting fragment of domestic history; "for I am precisely in the same position as yourself. My darling Frederic is affianced to an heiress, who dotes upon him, but whose father is unwilling to consent to the union of the two dear children until the poor boy has either obtained church-preferment or is able to make some settlement upon his wife. I mentioned to him our expectations from Mr. Lyle, as you may imagine, trusting to remove his objection; but the old gentleman is for the present impracticable; and I need not therefore explain the feeling of indignation with which I learnt the weak and inconsiderate manner-to use no stronger termin which our wealthy relative is wasting his money. I really should have imagined, from what I have seen of him, that he would have had more pride (for it is certain that he fully appreciates both luxury and high-breeding) than to throw away so serious a sum upon an obscure old maid, who can add nothing either to his comfort or bis fashion. What strange events one sees in the world!

"Strange indeed!" echoed Mrs. Percival; "and many of them monstrously disagreeable. And so Frederic is about to marry an heiress?" she continued, in an accent which betrayed a slight tinge of incredulity: "What then has become of the Lady Harriet to whom you alluded at Mr. Lyle's? I thought you spoke as though matters were concluded in that quarter."

Mrs. Stainton was, for an instant, at fault; but only for an instant.

"And so they were;" she said composedly, "But to be candid with you, Mrs. Percival, I considered the whole affair to be so imprudent that I at last succeeded in inducing the dear boy to give it up."

But what said the lady's noble relations to the arrangement?" asked her shrewd companion, who was at no loss to perceive the embarrassment created by her curiosity; "Did they not resent such an affront?"

66

Happily," was the cold reply; "the Earl has been dead some years, and the Countess has contracted a second marriage; and, as is usual under such circumstances, her interest in the children of her first husband has considerably declined in fact, Lady Harriet and her sister have for some time resided with a maiden-aunt, by whom they are so spoiled that she never interferes with them in any way.'

33

"How extremely lucky! But it would appear, in that case, that the young lady was willing, on her side, to break off the connection."

plauded your own prudence when you refused to receive him; for I am well aware that there is no accounting for the whims and caprices of young girls."

"Of those no one can, of course, dispute your perfect experience;" said Mrs. Percival; "but to revert to Octavius-I fear that the poor boy has offended his uncle past all redemption."

splendid, he considered her to be deficient in | spoken; "and for that very reason I highly aptime. Such being his expressed desire I could not, of course, raise any objection; and accordingly I took my work into the drawing room, and remained with the two cousins during his stay. He is, moreover, an excellent artist; and altogether I doubt whether any girl, and particularly one who is only just entering the world, could receive his attentions with indifference. With far less inducement than poor dear Anastasia must have had to return his affection, young people, at times, form such strong attachments that it is dangerous to thwart them; and your sweet girls appear to me to be rather delicate."

they

"By no means;" was the sharp retort; have excellent constitutions. You forget that they have always been under my own eye, and have never been subjected to the privations or hardships of a school. But I do not wish them to be made the theme of gossipry or comment. Mr. Percival Lyle's daughters must be spared such a degradation; as for Anastasia, I am under no apprehension whatever, for I feel satisfied that, educated as she has been at home, and under my perpetual guardianship, she knows too well what is due alike to herself and her parents, to be guilty of loving any man without their sanction. We will change the subject, however; for, as you are aware, it was a much more serious motive which brought me here."

"Very true. And what course do you intend to pursue?"

"So it would appear indeed. But with regard to that same uncle-we have once more wandered from our subject-What is to be done?" "I really cannot imagine. All I know is, that we must do something"

"And that something?"

"We must undermine that odious old maid. I hate old maids!"

"Most people do, they are such manœuvring, censorious creatures. Unfortunately, I know so little of Miss Lyle that, with the best inclination in the world, I really do not see how I can move in the business. "Had I ever received her at my house, or in any way courted her acquaintance, I should have made a point of waiting upon her, and very candidly expressing my opinion of her unworthy conduct; but as I have constantly avoided an intercourse which I could not consider to be either profitable or pleasant, I cannot now expose myself to probable insult by intruding my feelings upon her."

"Then you altogether decline to act in the matter?"

I really cannot, on the spur of the moment, "That is precisely the question which I was decide upon what I may ultimately deem it exabout to put to yourself; for to you, our pre-pedient to do. Many serious considerations are sent dilemma must be even more vexatious and involved in the subject, and a false move may be important than to us. Girls who have fashion fatal." and family to recommend them are sure to go off, but with young men the case is altogether different; and although Frederic is, as you state, provided for, you have still your eldest son in a great degree upon your hands."

"No," said Mrs. Stainton with a selfgratulatory smile; "Ernest has been as fortunate as his brother, or nearly so; for Miss Alicia Ravensdale, an only child and an heiress, another amiable young friend of mine, who has been adopted by an uncle, is greatly attached to him; and he returns her affection. So that you see, my dear Mrs. Percival, it would be imprudent in me, under such circumstances, to take the initiative, as it would not do to set Mr. Lyle against the young people just when they are starting in the world."

"Ah!" laughed the visitor gaily, although a shade of bitterness was perceptible amid her mirth; "You have proved yourself what I always said you were; a very clever woman. And to think how snugly you have brought all this to bear under your own roof! Now I understand why you refused any longer to countenance that impertinent Octavius; and you did quite right. He must have been terribly in the

way
of your sons; for, after all, we must confess
that he is very handsome and attractive."

"We cannot do otherwise ;" said the mistress

of the house, as blandly as she had before

Well, bear it in mind at all events;" said the visitor, rising to depart; "and should any thing strike you, either write, or call in Bedford Square; only remember that we must act in concert if we hope to succeed. Percival will see Joseph Lancaster; and it will be very hard if we do not manage to circumvent an ugly old woman. Consult with your sons; who will have no objection, I dare say, to a share of their uncle's gold, particularly under present circumstances; and do not fail to tell them how sincerely I congratulate them on their happy prospects."

"I will not, depend upon it. Poor dear boys! they richly deserve their good fortune; but I confess that I sometimes feel quite sad when I reflect that I am no longer their first object of interest and affection."

"No doubt, no doubt;" said Mrs. Percival, drawing on her gloves; "but you do not require to be told, my dear Madam, that we all bring up our sons for themselves, and our daughters for other people; so that, as you see, you must be content to share the common lot of mothers." "I suppose so." replied Mrs. Stainton in an accent of the most angelic resignation.

"And you will be kind enough not to betray Anastasia's secret?"

"My dear Mrs. Percival! And perhaps, in your turn, you will oblige me by not hinting at

OCTOBER IN THE WOODS AND WAYSIDES.

BY MRS. WHITE.

The robin sings in the shrubs, and watches, with his large, wide open eyes, every movement of the gardener's spade, fearlessly darting down beside it whenever a worm is upturned.

October has been likened to April, in its alter-ivy-bloom masking old walls, or feasting, like nations of storm and sunshine; but the petu- knights of old, in buff coats and golden cuisses, lance of the green-robed, daisy-buttoned month, at the round table of a sunflower's disk. is that of a child casting itself, after its momentary burst of passion, in tears of repentance at our feet, and with its irresistible and smiling sportiveness filling our hearts with the sunshine of its own-while the wilfulness of October is of a more matured and violent character. "Blackbrow'd and bluff," his hurricane outbreaks are followed by calms, that have more of sullenness than softness in them; flowers fade from fields and gardens as he approaches, and he strews his onward path like a conqueror, with the sered and leafy spoils of plundered forests.

Yet is there nothing in nature more gorgeous than woodland scenery at this season of the year: the "kindling of the leaf," as Howitt beautifully expresses it, lights up the forest with fresh glory upon the very eve of desolation-the purple brown of the beech, the brilliant yellow of the hornbeam, and orange shade of the ash, beautifully contrast with the tawny hue of the plane-tree, the pale primrose of the sycamore (which the rain-drops have spotted black), the pallid green of the oak, and the bright red of the wild cherry, reminding us in its decay of the hectic on the cheek of consumption, glowing with more perfect beauty the nearer the advance of death.

Mosses of rarest shades wrap round the sylvan roots, or underline the wood-paths; and show rich-hued, and lustrous, as three-piled velvet, in the slant rays of the autumnal sun. A purple haze fills up the interstices of the branches, the massive verdure of the elm grows thin, and upon the outskirts of the wood, the summer bowers of "travellers' joy" (Clematis vitalba), spoiled of their white and scented flowers, fall down a mass of interlaced and tangled branches. The ash-keys clatter amongst the fallen foliage, the polished fruitage of the horse-chesnut bursts its spiny husks, and acorns drop from their daintily-carved cups upon the beds of fading leaves that nature has spread forth to

receive them.

In the garden, the showy hollyhock sentinels the hedges; and nodding dahlias and ten-leaved sunflowers tower above the borders, where the vary-coloured china-aster fades softly in the morning frosts; and mignonette, geraniums, and verbenas linger; and late-flowering feverfew, and brilliant French and African marigolds, and many other children of the same-rayed tribe continue blowing.

The dark green branches of the arbutus are decked with terminal panicles of frozen-looking transparent flowers, in the nectaries of which the bees are busy; and we hear them also in the

In Essex, lambs are in the fields-ploughing is still going on, and the voice of the "crowboy" sounds over the still uplands from morn till eve, varied now and then by the dull report of an antiquated firelock or pistol; or the monotonous clacking of the wooden clappers with which he frights the birds off from the seeds.

Anon the sharp crack of a double barrel reverberates through the still air, and the whirr of partridge-wings reveals the proximity of the sportsman.

On mild evenings, the beetle still "wheels his drowsy flight" beneath the tree-boughs; and gnats swarm and dance under the pollard oaks in close warm lanes.

The swallows have not yet left us, but are seen circling about the village roofs; and the little scarlet-mantled lady-bird enters our houses in search of shelter.

But to return to the "woods and waysides," of which our talk was to have been there, on fine mornings, the lark is still heard waking the air around

“A singing feather he, a winged and wandering
sound.

Whose shrill capricious song
Breathes like a flute along
With many a careless tone,
Music of thousand tongues, formed by one tongue
alone."*

The redbreast vocalizes in the hedge-rows-
the wren and blackbird whistle in the thickets,
where the yellow flowers of the St. John's-wort
glisten, amidst the dark green of its shrubby
stems. In ancient times, the light of its floral
stars was deemed potent against the presence of
evil spirits, a belief which has descended to
comparatively modern ones; for Jeremy Taylor,
discover the presence of Satan, adds, " and
in enumerating the herbs used by the priests to
especially St. John's-wort, which therefore is
called Devil's-flight," + a name synonymous
with the
France and Germany, at the present day, the
Fuga dæmonium" of Pliny. In
peasant people gather the plant on St. John's
Day with great ceremony, and hang it in their
windows, as a charm against thunder-storms
and witchcraft; and in Ireland the same virtues
are ascribed to it.

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Maria Tesselchade Visscher. "Dissuasions from Popery."